There is nothing quite like a distinctive smell or scent to whisk us back in time, unlocking memories from years before. There are a number of smells I find particularly poignant, ranging from May blossom to the distinctive odour of horses, stamping in their stables, waiting for a day’s hunting. Another wonderfully evocative scent I’d nearly forgotten is that of fresh, glutinous mud on the saltings. Coupled with the yelping of redshanks and the distant babble of geese, it transports me straight back to distant days on the marshes.
I was never a passionate wildfowler, possibly because my spaniels were never really happy below the sea wall, but I still treasure my memories of days on the saltings, as I was reminded during a recent visit to North Norfolk. I was out at dawn, and as I walked my dogs along the sea wall at Burnham Overy Staithe I met two wildfowlers,
